


Do It With A Rockstar

by fightlikeagirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Pre-Fall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 12:03:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightlikeagirl/pseuds/fightlikeagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Contrary to popular belief, their Father had never discouraged curiosity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do It With A Rockstar

**Author's Note:**

> prompt from anon on tumblr: When Lucifer said Gabriel learned all his tricks from him, he meant all. Gabriel didn't become the lover he is from his trickster creations, that's for sure.

Contrary to popular belief, their Father had never discouraged curiosity. Or perhaps it was that it had never been explicitly forbidden, and Gabriel had taken that as permission. He'd always been good at finding permission where it wasn't quite intended.  
Lucifer would never have cared about the details, would never have cared about _bending_ the rules. He pushed limits until they broke. Gabriel admires that, he thinks, the easygoing lack of regard, he thinks he finds the rebelliousness intriguing.

He doesn't hesitate to abandon his duties when Lucifer slips by, takes his hand and tugs him away. "We're going exploring," Lucifer tells him when he asks, and there's a dare in his eyes.

And it isn't wrong, he thinks, to worship their Father's creation like this. He has things he's meant to be doing, of course, and abandoning them can't exactly be considered _right_ , but it isn't as though he's sneaking off to do something wrong. He can't help wanting to know, to explore and discover new things.

This is the first encounter Gabriel will have with the difficult nature of right and wrong. This is the first he will realize that what's right isn't always the easier choice, that sometimes he will want to make the wrong choice.

He can't bring himself to regret it, either, even when Michael chastises him. He and Lucifer had spent hours in the forests of what would one day come to be called India, fingers entwined, and the reverence he feels at Lucifer's touch can't be wrong, either. Their Father had created Lucifer as his older brother and Gabriel as Lucifer's younger; it's only natural that Lucifer should fill him with awe, just as their Father does.

And so he does it again, and again, leaves his position to be with Lucifer. It occurs to him that he might say yes to anything Lucifer asked of him. His older brother is so very beautiful, more beautiful even than Michael, and every word that falls from his lips makes Gabriel want to do whatever he asks.

Lucifer satisfies his burning curiosity in a way that all Michael's solemn instructions and orders never could. He shows Gabriel the subtle differences between an overwhelming variety of flora, teaches him how the beauty of this flower masks its poison, how this one defends itself with treacherous thorns or by raising a rash on anyone who touches it. They spend an entire day tracking a tiger through a jungle, watching how it moves, all rippling muscle, and when they overtake it all Lucifer has to do to calm it is to lay a gentle hand on its head.

When they return, Gabriel is filthy, covered in dirt and scrapes and scratches, but his face is bright. Michael is tight-lipped and disapproving, and only shakes his head and purses his lips when Gabriel tries to explain everything that he's seen.

"This is how you look after your brother?" Michael asks Lucifer, whose beauty is still perfect and unblemished, hardly a hair out of place, and Lucifer shrugs easily. Thankfully, Michael doesn't lecture, simply sends them off to bathe before their Father summons them.

"He doesn't understand," Gabriel says quietly, later. He's perched in Lucifer's lap, back pressed to Lucifer's chest as Lucifer runs soapy fingers through his hair. Gabriel has no concept of boundaries yet, even less than his brothers, only knows that he likes being close to them, likes the feel of their touch. "It's so beautiful, but he won't see it."

"Michael is limited," Lucifer tells him. "His devotion to our Father is admirable, unparalleled, commendable. But he lacks an appreciation for the finer parts of our Father's creations. He doesn't know how to love something he hasn't been expressly told to love." He nudges Gabriel off his lap, tilts his head back into the water and washes the soap from his hair.

Lucifer's fingers are warm and soft where they run across Gabriel's body, scrubbing the dirt from him, soothing the scratches left by brambles. Gabriel sighs contentedly and Lucifer smiles down at him. His touch isn't tentative the way Gabriel's would be, he slides his fingers across Gabriel's skin like he already knows each and every inch of it, knows exactly where to touch to make his Grace hum.

"Sit up," he murmurs, and Gabriel complies, scooting into his lap with his knees on either side of Lucifer's thighs. Lucifer makes a considering sort of noise, before cupping the back of Gabriel's head, pulling him in and pressing their lips together.

It's startling, and he freezes for a moment, before pushing back into the kiss, parting his lips and letting Lucifer's tongue slip inside. He tastes like fire and ice, and he's shocked at how much he wants _more_.

"What are you doing?" he asks, in a small, startled whisper. "Are—are we _allowed_ —"

Lucifer cuts him off with another kiss, brief and gentle. "I thought you'd like it," he says, voice light and teasing. "You like it enough when I touch you. I'll stop if you want."

"No," Gabriel admits. "But—Michael would..."

"You're my brother and I love you," Lucifer says, tilting his head. "Father doesn't discourage us from showing affection, does he?"

Lucifer makes sense; he always makes sense.

"You like new things, don't you?" he whispers in Gabriel's ear. "Let me show you something new." And he reaches down, between Gabriel's legs, wraps his fingers around his cock.

Gabriel makes a surprised noise, taking in a sharp breath, and he can't seem to keep himself from pushing back into Lucifer's hands. "Lucifer," he says, and groans. Lucifer keeps working him, pumping his fist up and down his dick, smiling and kissing his neck when Gabriel lets his head drop forward onto Lucifer's shoulder. He's thrusting forward into Lucifer's grip on instinct, he doesn't know what he's doing, what Lucifer's doing to him, just knows that it feels better than anything he's felt before. The feeling mounts until he thinks he's going to die, just burn up and die, and then he's shuddering through his release, Lucifer's hand on him, stroking down his back.

"You're beautiful, Gabriel," Lucifer tells him, and he hums sleepily. Lucifer lets him stay there, wrapped in his arms, for a few, long moments, before telling him he's beginning to get pruny, tugging him up out of the water and finding a towel to dry him off.

Lucifer doesn't tell him not to tell Michael about the experience, but Gabriel understands the unspoken warning. It isn't something Michael would understand, anyway.

Things change between them, after that. Gabriel trails after Lucifer nearly everywhere he goes, and they spend the bulk of their time together, on Earth. Lucifer is the first to teach him pleasure, and he ensures that Gabriel's education is not lacking in any regard. He shows Gabriel new uses for his mouth and tongue, sucks him off in the shade of a willow tree. He doesn't mind when Gabriel clutches at his hair, seems pleased with the broken noises he wrings from Gabriel's throat. Gabriel asks him if he should be ashamed of how easily he falls apart, and Lucifer shakes his head.

"You look lovely like this," he says, "with your legs spread, your mouth red and bruised. You look like you're mine," and the words send a little thrill down Gabriel's spine. "If there was shame in this, would our Father allow it to happen? There's no shame in love, Gabriel. And this is just love."

Gabriel nods, and leans up to kiss him.

Every day, it seems there's something new for Lucifer to show him. Even repeating an experience is an overwhelming rush. He'd like nothing better than to steal away together, spend days on Earth exploring their bodies, but Lucifer takes him slow.

"Michael wouldn't notice," he protests. "Father certainly wouldn't."

Lucifer gives him a chastising look. "Michael would notice," he says. "He worries about you, about both of us. And I won't rush through anything with you." He cards a hand through Gabriel's hair, pulls him down on top of him and kisses him til he's breathless. He cups Gabriel's ass, smiles indulgently when Gabriel makes an indistinct noise in the back of his throat and thrusts against his hip. Lets Gabriel rut against him, pushing back against him until they're both coming, Gabriel first and Lucifer following after him.

They balance exploring their Father's creation with exploring each other. One day, they follow butterflies, and Lucifer teaches Gabriel how to be still and quiet enough for one to land on him. The next, Lucifer spends hours teasing him with his tongue, spreading him open and licking into him, drawing mewling cries from him until he's begging to come.

"Gabriel," Michael says when they return, and for a moment Gabriel thinks he can see it on him, can see what he and Lucifer have been doing. But Michael just takes his hand, draws him away with a look of fond concern on his face.

"You've been spending a great deal of time with Lucifer," Michael says, and Gabriel sticks his lip out petulantly.

"And?" he says, hoping he's going to be able to escape this without a lecture.

The look of concern on Michael's face doesn't dissipate at his insubordination, merely grows. "I only want to know that you're alright, Gabriel," he says quietly. "I worry about Lucifer. He's grown distant, lately. Sometimes I look at him, and I'm not sure I recognize him. Have you noticed?"

In truth, Gabriel hasn't. He's been—otherwise occupied. Michael sighs. "I worry," he says softly. "About both of you. You know I love you both, don't you?"

Gabriel nods, squeezes Michael's fingers gently. "I can take care of myself, Michael," he says.

Michael frowns, biting his lip. "I don't want to see you hurt," he says. "Father says war will come to us all, eventually. You'll be the Messenger, not a warrior. I'm grateful for that. You have such innocence, Gabriel; I'd like to see it preserved."

Gabriel smiles and nods, privately shaking his head. He's not innocent, but Michael still isn't able to see it.

There's an unfamiliar look on Lucifer's face the next morning when he takes Gabriel by the hand, playful and daring, but with an edge of tension to it. Gabriel isn't sure what it means, but it sets of a nervous flutter in his stomach.

"There's something I want to show you," he says. "Something you'll like."

Lucifer takes him to an orchard, and it's lovely and peaceful, but Gabriel doesn't understand until Lucifer plucks the fruit from one of the trees and holds it out to him. Gabriel bites into it, and it's perfect. The kind of apple that he will later dream of having again, with crisp skin that splits and crunches when he bites down, white flesh that gives way before his teeth without being too soft, juice that's sweet and tangy and runs down his chin. Lucifer laughs when he wipes it off his chin, kisses him and tells him he tastes of apple.

"It's beautiful," Gabriel says, and Lucifer tells him there's something else. His tone contains a hint of something promising, and Gabriel's heart thrums in anticipation.

Lucifer pulls him deep into the orchard, where the trees have abandoned order and cluster close together. It's cool and shady, and thoroughly private. Lucifer settles down where two trees have grown together and formed a nook for him to lean back into, and tugs Gabriel into his lap. He's smiling at Gabriel, the secret, private smile he's begun to use with him, the one he sometimes flashes at Gabriel to make him blush when Michael is in the middle of delivering a lecture.

Lucifer parts Gabriel's legs, draws one slippery finger down to his hole, tracing around it and making him squirm before sliding inside him.

" _Oh_ ," he murmurs, grinding down on the finger, arching his back when Lucifer adds another. This isn't new, Lucifer fingering him, they've done this before, but not with the same kind of burning intent he can see in Lucifer's eyes, that he can feel in Lucifer's touch. This is building to something, and he thinks he has an idea before it slips away as Lucifer's deft fingers tease and pull him apart.

"Not yet," Lucifer says, kissing Gabriel's neck. "I don't want you coming yet," and he forces down the building rush of release.

And then he's tugging Gabriel up, hands on his hips, and his cock is nudging at Gabriel's entrance and he's pushing inside and _fuck_ , this is an entirely new sensation.

" _Lucifer_ ," he groans, as his older brother thrusts up into him. He doesn't know how to blaspheme yet; it will be a very long time before he discovers the filthy rebellious pleasure of profaning his Father's name in bed, so for now he settles for repeating his brother's name, whispering _Lucifer, Lucifer_ over and over again.

"Been waiting for this, Gabriel," Lucifer says, his fingers tight around Gabriel's waist, thumbs digging in. "Since the first time I watched you come, I've wanted to know what it would be like to be inside you." He thrusts up and groans when Gabriel pushes down to meet him.

His words are overwhelming, fill Gabriel with heat and make his face flush. "You didn't have to wait," he says, breath hitching. "You could've taken me any time—I wouldn't have—" He lets the rest of the sentence break off, clutching at Lucifer's back.

Lucifer smiles at that, kisses him firmly. "I wanted to make sure you were ready," he says. "Wanted to be sure you wanted it."

"I wanted it," Gabriel gasps, "wanted _you_ —you have no idea—"

And there's the truth of it, that as much as Lucifer taught him, as much as Lucifer—Michael would later cluck and call it tempting—as much as Lucifer did any of that, Gabriel learned desire for himself. No one showed him how to want Lucifer, and perhaps this is why he couldn't see his error until he fell into it. Surely if it was there, it was something their Father had intended, surely it couldn't be wrong to want Lucifer as he did, not when it brought him such pleasure. And surely it couldn't be wrong if Lucifer—wanted him back.

He makes a noise, deep in his throat, almost like a sob, and comes harder than he has before. His body's gone slack and he presses his forehead against Lucifer's shoulder as Lucifer thrusts a few more times and follows him over.

Lucifer slides down, rolls onto his back beneath the trees and tucks Gabriel into his arms. Gabriel hums contentedly, nosing at Lucifer's neck, and Lucifer strokes a hand through his hair.

"Mine," he tells Gabriel, and to demonstrate his point, bares Gabriel's throat and sucks at the pale skin until it bruises.

"Michael won't like that," Gabriel says, but there's no feeling behind it. Michael doesn't understand, can't understand.

Lucifer just smiles, their private smile.


End file.
